


Cars and Girls

by Taverl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cars, F/M, Humor, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taverl/pseuds/Taverl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stakeout and a discussion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cars and Girls

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are the property of 1013 and Fox.
> 
> Acknowledgements: To Carrie for beta when I first wrote this eons ago, and to Buffy for beta and encouragement.

"Cars & Girls"  
by Octavian

"That," Mulder said, pointing toward the woman walking towards the gas station across the street, "is every red-blooded American male's wet dream."

"*Straight* red-blooded American males, I should say," he amended before his partner could respond.

The last hour of their stakeout had been an exercise in tedium, just like the six that preceded it. It appeared to Scully that Mulder had finally cracked under the mind-numbing boredom.

"Okay, Mulder, I'll give. What about that woman makes her 'every red-blooded American male's wet dream'?" She watched through her binoculars as the raven-haired woman paid the cashier and headed outside. Scully had to admit that she was very attractive, reminding Scully of a pin-up girl from the '40's.

"Oh, it's not just her. The car counts for at least twenty-five percent of the appeal." Mulder's statement earned him one of Scully's more doubtful looks and he continued. "The Ford Mustang, the original muscle car." He grinned at the woman beside him. "And I don't need to tell you which muscle we're talking about here." She smirked in response. "What more obvious phallic symbol is there than a perfectly preserved, fire engine-red '69 Mustang?"

"'68," Scully replied instantly.

Mulder shot her a surprised glance before returning his attention to the car in question. "I stand corrected," was all he could think to say as he watched the brunette deposit her purchases in the passenger's seat. "Okay, so I can see the appeal of the car. But why would this particular car and this particular woman qualify for such...exalted status in the male libido?"

Their subject had moved to the rear of the car was bending over to lift the license plate holder, enabling her to remove the gas cap underneath. Judging from the small grin he was sporting, Mulder was obviously appreciating the view.

"What's not to like?" was Mulder's initial response, but that garnered him another glare and a put-upon sigh. "Okay, let's start at the top: her hair is classic movie star style. It reveals enough of her face to tell she's quite attractive, but covers enough so that practically every look becomes a come-hither stare. Her complexion is fair," he looked through the binoculars again as his quarry removed the nozzle from the pump, "and her eyes are light, possibly blue." Turning back to Scully, he smiled. "There's just something irresistible about fair-skinned, light-eyed women with dark hair."

She returned his smile as he stared at her with a gleam in his eye. "Be that as it may, that doesn't fully explain the appeal," she countered.

Returning to his scrutiny of the subject, he nodded agreement, saying, "Well, then there's her body." He watched that body closely as the woman walked to one of the plastic tubs on the island, pulling out a squeegee. "She's...lush. Voluptuous. Those curves are dangerous, like a winding two-lane mountain road." Scully's snort of laughter at his loquaciousness made him smile. "She's all those things that women aren't supposed to be anymore. Thankfully, some of them are." He turned his full attention to his partner, grinning like very hungry wolf as he examined her quickly from head to toe.

She chuckled. "Don't worry, Mulder, I promise not to take this too personally." Her grin widened. "Especially when you start talking about her breasts."

"Thank you," he replied, laughing. "Besides, like my mother used to say, 'More than a handful is a waste.' And trust me, Scully, you are more than a handful." She shook her head in amusement, refusing to believe that his mother would have told him anything of the sort. She hoped to God not.

The subject of their conversation was methodically running the sponge over the windshield, paying extra attention to certain areas. She had to stretch to reach the center of the windshield, one stiletto-clad foot lifting off the ground as she tried to balance. "She'll be gone before you make your point if you don't get on with it."

Mulder turned to look out the window again. "Okay, since you brought it up, she has great breasts." He glanced out of the corner of his eye to try and gauge Scully's reaction. She was trying to suppress a smile, which was a good sign. "She's well-endowed, but not to the point of looking fake. Her waist is small and flare perfectly into generous hips."

"'Generous'?" Scully asked. "That's a very diplomatic way of putting it." She couldn't help but be pleased at her partner's description; she was delighted he could appreciate and love those things about a woman that many felt to be a flaw.

"Oh, I'm not being diplomatic, or even gallant, Scully. I don't want to misrepresent myself here." He raised his hands from where they had been resting in his lap, slowly tracing a woman's shape in the air before him, deliberately exaggerating the width of the hips. "Those aren't just hips, they're handles." Scully just stared at him, bewildered. He tightened his fists around the imaginary body in front of him. "They just beg for you to grab on and not let go until the ride's over." His exuberant grin made her laugh, even as her face flushed at the memory of the bruises his fingers had left on her 'handles'.

"And look at those legs," Mulder continued, warming to his subject, "shapely, not these sticks you see on some women these days. Notice how pale they are?" Scully nodded as they both got a good view of one of the aforementioned body parts through the high slit in her skirt as the woman leaned forward and started cleaning the water off the windshield. Mulder grinned. "No pantyhose." He raised his eyebrows in a joking attempt at a sexy look. "And she's dressed perfectly to maximize her assets: the light blue sweater sets off her eyes and accentuates her figure. The skirt hugs her hips, but doesn't squeeze too tight, so there is no visible panty line. Either that, or she's not wearing panties."

Scully rolled her eyes and turned to watch the woman screw on the gas cap. "But the best part," Mulder concluded, "are her shoes." He watched as she walked back to the pump to replace the nozzle. "Those are fuck-me-hard-all-night shoes if ever I saw 'em. Black patent leather, just like a good Catholic schoolgirl, but now she's all grown up." He leered at his partner. "And she's certainly not a good girl anymore. Nice tall, thin heels that make her calves flex and accentuate the curve of her foot. And those ankle straps. God, you can just imagine the other end of those straps tied to a chair leg or a bed post." He stared at his partner, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. Not that he needed the eye contact, her uneven breathing told him exactly what moment she was reliving and that she was enjoying the memory just as much as he was.

"But the best part about the shoes is the fact that it makes her a bit unstable, a little wobbly." He noticed that her feet wavered slightly as she walked back towards the cashier's booth. "So all it would take is a gentle push to throw her off balance. She would reach out to steady herself against the hood of the car, her legs spread and her ass in the air. Just a flip of the wrist would have the back of her skirt up, and she would arch her back and beg for you to fuck her right there on the hood of the car. So you grab those magnificent hips and bury yourself in her in one quick thrust. She would moan and growl like the car's engine, cracking her blood-red nails against the redder metal underneath her. You'd pound into her until she came, shuddering and wailing and writhing.

"Then you'd grab her limp body, throw her in the passenger seat, and get behind the wheel, heading for the open road as fast as humanly possible. The second you're in fifth, she would throw herself over the gearbox and wrap those beautiful blowjob lips around your cock... And *this* is every red-blooded American male's wet dream: There is nothing in the world but the sound of the engine; the smell of the leather interior and her sex; the sight of her gorgeous red head bobbing up and down in your lap; and the feel of her sucking your cock like she's trying to find out how many licks it takes to get to the center of your Tootsie Pop."

The car's interior was silent but for the panting breaths of its two occupants. Across the street, the gas station was once again deserted. "Mulder," Scully said, her voice rough and low, "that woman was a brunette."

"What woman?" was his only reply.

END


End file.
